when you died
i threw your skeleton into my closet
because i couldn't let go of the boy
who told me i didn't need skinny legs
to be beautiful and that it was okay to
drink water when everyone else was
drinking beer

but your skeleton has skinnier legs
than i do and i'm left getting drunk
off old photographs and songs that
sing the words that you used to sing
to me when we sat in parking lots
on wednesday nights doing nothing but
laughing and not saying what we really
wanted to say

i like you a lot
i love you more
i hate you sometimes
please don't leave
i'm really going to miss you

i locked myself in the closet yesterday
with your skeleton
with the memories
i could hear you laugh and
things were okay
(for once)